So Much More than a Monster
by krs-324
Summary: Any one else really like Clint and Natasha as best friends rather than lovers?


It took a lot to shake Natasha Romanoff to the core. What that female twin showed her earlier that day brought back memories that she particularly didn't like to remember. She was delighted to back at Clint's home. She smiled at how much Cooper and Lila had grown. She adored them. But in the back of her mind, she couldn't shake her memories. She smiled when Lila showed off her doll collection, but in the corner of her eye, she always caught Laura or Clint watching over her. That night, Laura put Cooper and Lila to bed. Steve, Tony and Bruce all went to their respected rooms. Natasha couldn't sleep, she couldn't be confined to one room. The anxiety in the pit of her stomach had been growing all day, rising to her chest. She felt herself losing control of her emotions, something she hated.

Clint sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for Laura to appear out of the bathroom, but also thinking about Natasha. He loved Laura as his wife, and he loved Natasha like a best friend or a sister. It had always been like that. They'd been partners for so long that he could sense her unease throughout the day. He knew the Maximoff showed her something, something bad, but he didn't know what that something was. He would have to pry it out of Natasha. Natasha didn't reveal her emotions quickly. Clint was sure he (and maybe Fury) are the only two who have seen her with her guard down, vulnerable.

Laura Barton came up next to her husband, put her hands on his shoulders and began to rub them. Clint had been gone for quite some time, this was their time together, but she knew how much Natasha needed her best friend. "She needs you," Laura said before kissing his temple.

Clint kissed his wife, and went to find Natasha.

Natasha found her way to Clint's training room. The punching bag hanging from the ceiling was getting its share of punches. Her knuckles were raw, the skin ready to begin to peel off. Sweat dripped from her chin. Her shoulders began to ache, but she kept going. That was what she was trained to do. The memories she was shown earlier that day played over and over again, vivid in her mind. She felt like a little girl again. She wasn't allowed to cry, only with her head buried under her pillow.

Clint knew exactly where Natasha was, and when he found her, his shoulders slumped and a frown formed on his face. This was Natasha's way of dealing with her emotions. It wasn't healthy, but it was all she knew. From the time Clint first met Natasha and until know he had only seen her cry twice. He'd rather she cry, than punch all the energy out of herself. "Natasha," he said firmly stepping toward her.

She didn't seem to even hear him, or notice him standing next to her. Her eyes were concentrated, far away.

"Natasha," he said louder.

Her punches got faster, the anger in her eyes showing even more. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her away. An elbow caught his face, Clint grunted and let go. Natasha stood with her hands on her knees, breathing hard. Clint reminded himself to thank his partner for the headache he was going to have later. "Hey," he said putting a hand on her shoulder, but she forcibly knocked it away. "It's just me Tasha, take it easy."

She just shakes her head, breathing hard. Her heart is hammering in her chest. Clint made his way over to the small fridge in the corner of the training room. He took out a bottle of water. He sat cross-legged in front of his friend, his partner, his sister for all intents and purposes. "Drink," Clint said opening it for her.

Natasha hated being told what to to do, but the water looked cold and refreshing so she took it. She shifted so she was sitting cross-legged like Clint. Her body ached so she moved slowly. "Come back to be Nat," Clint said. "Don't let that girl get to you."

Natasha let out a shuddering breath and covered her face with her hands and started muttering in Russian, her native language. She was talking so fast and so quietly, Clint couldn't understand what she was saying. "Tasha," he said softly reaching a hand out.

"Don't touch me. I'm a monster Clint. I've done terrible things."

"You've done a lot of good Natasha," he reassured her.

"There is too much red in my ledger. No amount of 'good' that I do can change that."

Natasha wiped the sweat from her forehead. "Talk to me," Clint said.

"She showed me the Red Room."

Clint had only heard stories of Natasha's experiences at the Red Room when she was at her most vulnerable. Sometimes, those stories would make him sick to his stomach. He couldn't imagine a young Natasha being subjected to the physical and emotional abuse that she endured. Sometimes those memories would wake her up at nights on missions, she'd scream, or wake up frozen in panic, but she always put back on her brave face.

"I'm losing control Clint, you just saw it happen. I don't want to go back to who I used to be," she said and this time Clint could hear her voice shake.

"You'll never be that person again."

"How do you know that?"

Clint moved so he was sitting right in front of her. He lifted her chin gently and felt his heart crack. Tears pooled in her eyes threatening to spill over. Fear was the only thing he saw in them. She shut her eyes causing a single long trail wetness from each eye. They dripped to the floor. "Tasha," he breathed. Her hands were shaking so he grabbed one, and pursed his lips together from how tight she held on. "I'm so afraid of losing control," she whispered.

"Natasha, you are possibly the strongest woman I know. You knew you were better than the Red Room because you brought yourself out of that hell hole. You might have needed a little help at the beginning, but damn Tasha, I don't know many people who have come from such trauma, and handle it the way you do."

Natasha's face crumbled. Clint pulled her head towards him so it rested on his chest. She cried silently, never out loud, the only thing he heard was the occasional intake of breath. He held her shaking body until she pulled away. Her eyes were raw and red. She looked exhausted. "You are not a monster, you are more than that."

She wiped away the rest of her tears, and nodded. "You don't look like you believe me."

"I'm still working on believing it," she admitted.

"That's good Nat," Clint told her. He stood up, then reached a hand down to help her up. "Come here," he said pulling her into a hug he know she needed.

Natasha accepted the hug. "Thank you, Clint."

Any one else love Clint and Natasha as best friends/brother and sister rather than lovers? I thought it worked a lot better. And Aunty Nat? I mean, how adorable was that! Anyway, please leave a comment about the story! Or you can tell me how you like Age of Ultron, or Natasha's character in general! I love hearing what people have to say!


End file.
